


The Ghost of Lord Suffolk's Library

by insanity_by_proxy



Series: In Which Jonathan Plows Arabella Up and Down the Garden Path [2]
Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Accidental Exhibitionism, F/M, Married Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:41:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29149125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanity_by_proxy/pseuds/insanity_by_proxy
Summary: Jonathan convinces his wife to make their own fun while attending a boring dinner party, and nearly get caught in the act.Incidentally, Lord Suffolk's library gains a reputation for being haunted.
Relationships: Arabella Strange/Jonathan Strange
Series: In Which Jonathan Plows Arabella Up and Down the Garden Path [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1494302
Kudos: 6





	The Ghost of Lord Suffolk's Library

**Author's Note:**

> The hardest part about writing this installment was figuring out a canonical spell to be used to hide two full-grown adults in plain sight. There were plenty of solutions that I could imagine, but none that had an in-universe equivalent. I think I came up with a suitable solution. 
> 
> Points if you can identify the spell! (If I wrote the scene well, it shouldn't be too hard to figure out.)

Lord Suffolk’s dinner party was shaping up to be just as boring as the Stranges had anticipated when the invitation first arrived at their home a week prior. The food was bland and the company blander, and not a single note of music was played for dancing. To make matters worse, Arabella had been sequestered away from her husband from the almost moment they’d arrived, and the conversation in Lady Suffolk’s drawing room left much to be desired. All of which would have been bad enough without Christopher Drawlight somehow inserting himself into the ladies’ company. So not only was Arabella forced to put up with a boring social engagement, but she was forced to do so while enduring Drawlight’s loathsome company for the entire evening as well.

It was one of the few times that Mrs. Strange sympathized fully with Mr. Norrell aversion to public functions. As the conversation turned yet again to London society scandals, all Arabella wanted was to be at home with her husband. Her thoughts conjured up a terribly attractive scene wherein she and Jonathan lounged before the fire; Jonathan with his nose in a book, and she working on her latest illustration. Occasionally they would exchange a few words but generally they would simply enjoy one-another’s presence.

Arabella wondered idly if she could get away with feigning an illness as an excuse to usher Jonathan and herself home early. But such a ploy would no doubt open them up to further scrutiny from the London gossip columns. The writers were already convinced that Arabella was either in the family way, or that Jonathan was slowly poisoning her with drugged tea, or both… Arabella sighed, she would just have to endure tedium for a few more hours.

It wasn’t that Mrs. Strange disliked parties, quite the opposite in fact. Arabella liked a party as much as anyone. But she found that, especially since Jonathan’s tour in the Peninsula, she had rather less patience for someone wasting their time. God-only-knew how close her husband came to never returning from Spain. As such, Arabella did not wish to waste a single moment more of their time together.

And yet the invitations to social events had only increased since the end of the war, stealing ever more of their peace away. Mrs. Strange was very nearly at wit’s end.

It was then that Arabella realized someone had been trying to get her attention.

“Hmm?” Mrs. Strange blinked herself out of her own thoughts only to find the whole drawing room staring back at her. “I beg your pardon; I believe my mind wandered for a moment…”

Lady Suffolk’s voice carried from the door. “Your husband, madam, is asking for you.”

“Oh.” Arabella replied eloquently, and she could feel the eyes of everyone in the room resting on her heavily. In particular, Arabella noted Mr. Drawlight's gaze upon her face; a knowing smirk tugged at the odious man’s lips and Arabella suppressed the urge to wrinkle her nose at him.

She fumbled for a place to rest her tea cup as she stood, and curtsied politely to the room. “Do excuse me.” She said, before making a hasty exit.

When the door closed behind her, Mrs. Strange heard the distinct lilt of Mr. Drawlight’s voice. “ _Well…_ ” he drawled, “Did you notice how pale Mrs. Strange was this evening? The poor dear didn’t look well _at all_.”

Mrs. Strange fumed as she followed the servant toward wherever her husband had arranged for.

* * *

“You do realize that this will only further feed the London gossip-mongers?” Arabella said curtly as she stepped into the library.

She found her husband lounging in an armchair with a book lazily propped in one hand, and a glass of something red balanced in the other.

The corner of Jonathan’s mouth twitched up in amusement. “You know very well that I couldn’t care less what the gossip columns have to say about myself or my doings.” He said.

Arabella fixed him with a look that conveyed just how foolish she thought that attitude was. All the same, his disregard for the rules of society had just gotten her out of a very boring series of conversations, and for that reason she was willing to drop the subject.

“Very well, why have you called for me then?”

“Isn’t it reason enough that I missed my wife?” Jonathan asked with a coquettish grin.

“A pretty sentiment, but I don’t believe you.” Arabella said, though she smiled through her sharp words.

Jonathan hummed and set down the book so that he could reach one hand out and beckon her to come closer. “I must cease to forget how quarrelsome you are, my dear.”

As Arabella drew near enough to take Jonathan’s hand, she relieved him of his beverage with the other. The women’s drawing room had been served only tea and coffee, and while the tea had been good quality, wine would have been infinitely preferable. She took a sip from the glass to discover that it was full of sweet madeira.

Jonathan’s smile took on an amused air as he watched her polish off the remnants of his drink. “I take it your evening hasn’t been any more stimulating than mine?”

Arabella grimaced. “Less so. At least your evening had wine.”

“It didn’t. I asked the servants to open a bottle for me.”

She stared at him in horror.

He laughed at her reaction. “They didn’t mind, my love. It was a fair trade for a simple wart-removal spell.”

This, Arabella supposed, was not so bad as it could have been. She would hardly put it past her husband to raid the wine cellar on his own if it entered his head to do so.

“You still haven’t told me why you sent for me.” she said.

The glint in Jonathan’s eye told her that there was a very specific reason she had been summoned.

“Jonathan!” she reprimanded swatting at his shoulder, “We’re at a party! – At Lord Suffolk’s house! – In his library! _Anyone_ could walk in on us!” Her mind flashed to the image of Drawlight’s smug smile.

Taking the wine glass from her hand, Jonathan began to run his fingers across her hips and up the front of her dress, eventually finding his way to the hem of her neckline and running his fingers gently along the skin he found there. As they were in attendance at an evening party, Arabella’s dress had a fashionably low-cut neckline, and the feeling of Jonathan’s fingers running across the tops of her breasts made her shiver.

“Yes, well...” He said, “Don’t you think that makes it rather more exciting?”

Arabella did not, in fact, find the prospect of someone walking in on them in the middle of an intimate moment all that exciting. But she could tell by the way Jonathan said it, and by the glint in his eye that he most certainly did.

“And if someone _does_ walk in on us?” She huffed.

He grinned. “Then they will see only shadows.”

Arabella opened her mouth to ask her husband what he meant by that, but all that came out was a small sound of surprise. Jonathan’s fingers were plucking at her gown and began lifting the hem up past her ankles, then her shins, and then her knees. When it had inched up to her thighs his hand slipped beneath, and she felt him begin to caress her through her small clothes. 

The insistent pressure against her nethers quickly had a warmth spreading through her belly, and a flush high on her cheeks. It was almost embarrassing how quickly she could be roused by her husband, and Jonathan had a coy look in his eyes as he teased her, knowing that she was being persuaded by his “arguments.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Arabella leaned forward into his hand searching for more. The feeling of his clever fingers between her legs was too good, and her desire was mounting rapidly. But when he pushed aside the already-damp small clothes and slipped his fingers inside her, any reluctance still in her mind shattered. With a soft cry she pitched forward and gripped her husband’s shoulder to keep her knees from buckling underneath her.

From there Jonathan’s fingers played her expertly, with his thumb and the heel of his hand massaging her clitoris even as his fingers crooked inside her. Arabella moaned and shuddered, having to cover her own mouth to contain the lewd sounds, lest anyone outside hear and come to investigate. But even the anxiety of situation could not overcome the pleasure being wrung from her nerves, and Arabella soon found herself on the edge of release. With a breathy exclamation she squeezed her husband’s shoulder. 

And she would have come apart just like that if Jonathan had continued his ministrations for but a few more moments. But he did not, and Arabella could not help but whinge in frustration as his fingers left her.

“Jonathan.” She said, her voice high, begging him to continue, and that seemed to be what her husband had been waiting for, as he immediately stood and kissed her fiercely. Arabella pushed up onto her toes to improve the angle of the kiss and wrapped one arm around his neck as the other dropped to the front of his trousers to stroke him through the thick fabric. He was not unaffected by their activities, and she could feel the length of him twitch as he moaned into their kiss.

She was struck by a sudden, all-consuming need to have her husband inside her.

Glancing around, Arabella looked for an inspiring piece of furniture to help facilitate their desires, and her eyes quickly landed on the sturdy-looking desk towards the back of the room. Breaking away from Jonathan as he fumbled with the front of his trousers, she moved around the back of the desk and started hiking up her skirts. “Jonathan!” She called as she leaned forward over the furniture, and his gaze darkened when he saw the display before him.

“You are very clever, my love.” Jonathan said as he moved around behind her.

Then a moment later, with a well-practiced adjustment and a hitch of his hips, he was inside her. They both cried out, only to freeze and listen breathlessly for a few moments to be certain that no one had heard. When no such indication came, Jonathan began to thrust; shallowly at first, but then building into stronger movements. Arabella shifted so that she was better braced against the desk and closed her eyes to better appreciate the wonders of this particular position.

Maintaining his grip on her hips Jonathan leaned forward across her back, pinning her down slightly but more importantly, granting his mouth access to her neck. After kissing his way up her back, he whispered into the shell of her ear: “Would you believe me if I told you that I’d been thinking about doing this to you all evening?” 

Arabella shuddered with pleasure, remembering the looks he had been casting her across the foyer before they had been separated. “Yes, I think I would.”

They spoke no more words to each other after that, but they were not quiet. Forgetting somewhat that they were in someone else’s home they moaned to each other as the pleasure mounted. Arabella, sensing from his pace that her husband was getting close, reached one hand down between her own legs to finish herself, and seconds later she gasped as the combination of her husband’s thrusts and her own fingers sent her over the edge.

It wasn’t until her peak had subsided that she realized Jonathan had clamped his hand over her mouth to muffle her pants and cries. Shakily, she smiled and kissed his fingers to let him know it was safe to let her breathe once more.

But Jonathan was still hard inside her, and with his wife’s completion he was free to chase his own pleasure, and he did so setting a punishing pace. Arabella braced herself against the desk more firmly, and whispered encouraging words to her husband, coaxing him to completion.

That was when the couple heard the sound of the doorknob turn and the latch click open.

Before Arabella could see who was entering the library, the world spun around her. Jonathan hoisted her backwards and flipped them around so that his wife’s face and modesty was obscured. However this had the unfortunate side effect of leaving his own bare arse exposed to whomever had just entered the room. But no indignant cry of alarm came from the intruder, and Arabella was left to wonder if the individual was, in fact, blind.

Turning her head to glance back over her shoulder, Arabella could see that Jonathan had wedged them into the corner made between a bookshelf and a potted plant and that, oddly, all around them there seemed to be a shroud of darkness. Seeing as the shadow was not cast by any object or creature in the vicinity, and remembering Jonathan’s words from earlier, Arabella could only conclude that this was the product of her husband’s magic.

For a few moments the Stranges stood like that; tense and silent, and pressed as tightly as they could into an awkward corner, hoping that whoever had entered into the library would lose interest in the room and leave. But after a beat they heard a male voice sigh dramatically and the groaning of furniture being sat upon. A few moments after that, there was a thoughtful “hmm,” and the pouring of liquid from a bottle. It seemed their guest was here to stay.

Given how untenable the situation already was, Arabella saw no better course of action but to turn around in her husband’s arms and peek over his shoulder to get a better grasp of their options. Her movement prompted a flustered look from said husband, but she shushed him with a finger pressed to his lips.

There was indeed a man sitting in the room with them, and he had found Jonathan’s pilfered madeira and forgotten book and was currently helping himself to both. This did not bode well for their chances to leave unseen, much less for their ability to finish the delightful activities they had recently been engaged in.

An idea suddenly occurred to Arabella, and she pulled one of the books down from the shelf behind her then lobbed it over her husband’s shoulder. It arched through the air and landed with a loud thud on the floor not far from where the man sat. He jumped, startled by the loud noise a looked around to identify its source. Upon discovering that it was a book, newly lying in the middle of the floor the man glanced around in puzzlement.

Much to her dismay, Arabella recognized the man; he was a Member of Parliament, one of Lord Pole’s backbenchers. Meaning that if they were seen, they would likely be recognized too. All the same, MP or not, he must be made to vacate the room as quickly as possible, if she and Jonathan were to exit this party with their reputation at all intact. Arabella threw another book.

The second impact got the man out of his chair and scanning the room in a panic. “Is anybody there?” he called out to the air, but apparently had not placed the source of the throwing.

By this time, Jonathan had caught on to his wife’s machinations and with a delighted grin he took hold of the library’s rolling step ladder and shoved it as hard as he could. It skittered across the room and crashed against the end of its rail with a clang. At this, the MP let out a small yelp and began running for the door, shouting a woman’s name.

Arabella dissolved into laughter as soon as the door shut behind the man, but Jonathan reacted in an entirely different manner. Stooping down, he silenced his wife with a hungry kiss, murmuring, “my clever wife,” as he pressed her back against the bookshelves. Then he hoisted her up against the shelves for the proper angle to bury himself inside her once more. His groan of relief turned quickly into grunts of effort as he began to thrust.

“You incorrigible man.” Arabella chastised in between gasps as her own pleasure mounted. “We were almost caught but a moment ago, and you want to continue to push our luck?” Her hand found purchase in his hair and tugged sharply as the other arm braced against the bookshelf.

In answer Jonathan muttered something indecipherable into her neck, and bit down on the tendon just below her ear hard enough that she would probably have a bruise come the morning.

His thrusts were quick and hard, the product of a man cruelly denied his pleasure, and Arabella could only hold on as Jonathan rutted against her. A few moments later, she heard a groan that was half a growl, and then the creaking of gritted teeth as Jonathan clenched them tightly in pleasure. His face was hidden from her, but she knew by these signs that he had finally come. 

Carding her fingers through his hair, she couldn’t help but laugh at their situation. “Was that how you hoped this little adventure would go, my love?”

He merely chuckled as he let her stand under her own power again, stepping away briefly to pull a handkerchief from his waistcoat’s pocket. This, he handed to her for her own use, before pulling his trousers back up his legs and tucking himself away.

“My only intention was to seduce my wife, anything beyond that was hardly worth considering.” He said finally.

Arabella rolled her eyes from where she was fixing her hair in one of the library’s mirrors.

When she turned, Jonathan had his hand extended to her. “Home, Bel?” he asked.

“Please.” She replied, taking his arm and giving him a smile to let him know she was hardly annoyed with the evening’s misadventure.

When the pair existed the library and made it down the hall almost to the foyer, they encountered the investigative party assembled to find the source of the MP’s disturbance. The party consisted of the MP in question, Lord and Lady Suffolk, Mr. Drawlight, and a handful of other brave or curious guests. The women, Arabella noted, looked far more animated by this turn of events than they had by the conversations in the drawing room.

“Mr. Strange!” Lord Suffolk exclaimed upon seeing the pair. “Thank Heavens you’re still here! Lord Woolsey had a curious experience in the library, and we could use your expert opinion.”

“Books flew at me, Sir!” Interjected the MP, Lord Woolsey. “They knocked the glasses right off my face, when I entered the room to investigate a strange noise.”

Arabella bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“I am so sorry, my lords,” replied Jonathan. “But my wife is feeling ill, and I must escort her home.” Then turning to Lord Suffolk, he continued. “If you have any further problems with flying books, do let Mr. Norrell and I know. I’m certain that Mr. Lascelles and the _Friends of English Magic_ would be most intrigued to investigate such unnatural phenomena.”

With that, the Stranges bid their hosts a good evening and beat as hasty a retreat as they could.

* * *

The following morning, as Mrs. Strange took her tea and scones, and Mr. Strange took his eggs and toast, Mrs. Strange discovered that the previous evening’s party had, in fact, made it into the ton’s gossip columns. Namely, that Lord Suffolk’s dinner party had allegedly been rudely interrupted by a tremendous racket emanating from the library, and that when investigated several guests were assaulted by flying books and other small handheld objects. Four ladies had reportedly fainted, but the only real casualty was a bottle of madeira. The conclusion from the gossip columns was that Lord Suffolk’s library was haunted.

No reference was made to Mrs. Strange’s sudden illness, or even of the Stranges attendance.

The Stranges’ domestic staff did not fully understand why their employers hung a cutting of the article on the wall in their bedroom. But then again, the Stranges were always a little… eccentric.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> If you made it this far, please hit that kudos button! If you really liked it, why not leave a review? Anything as short as "liked it!" will be just as cherished as something longer.
> 
> Thanks again!


End file.
